Wasting Time
by newslayer
Summary: [NSG Triangle] Chapters 8 to 10! Along came Grissom...
1. Prologue: Belonging

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **Is this really necessary? Any doubts see my other fics' disclaimers. 

**Author's Note:** Finally, your prayers for mercy have been heard! Yes, This WON'T be a songfic. In fact I'm planning on more than 1 chapter. See how I've grown? Now, I can't promise it'll all make sense, that would be too much improvement...   
The only problem is, I still haven't decided what to make out of this. This will be mostly **N/S**, but I swear there'll be constant **G/S** presence. ('If ye are prepared ye shall not fear'...) 

**Rating:** PG-13. Still, no nudity or extreme violence, or anything less than subtle, but you know me, I like to play it safe. 

This time feedback is needed as a motive to continue (you are soooo lucky I don't like posting incomplete stories!)   
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**Prologue: Belonging** ____________________________________________________________________________ 

_"Good morning," said the fox._   
_"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing._   
_"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."_   
_"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."_   
_"I am a fox," the fox said._   
_"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."_   
_"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."_   
_"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince._   
_But, after some thought, he added:_   
_"What does that mean--'tame'?"_   
_(...)_   
_"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."_   
_"'To establish ties'?"_   
_"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."_   
_(...)_   
_"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat . . ."_   
_The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time._   
_"Please--tame me!" he said._   
_"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."_   
_"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things already made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."_   
_"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince._   
_"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me--like that--in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."_   
_(...)_   
_So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--_   
_"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."_   
_"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."_   
_"Yes, that is so," said the fox._   
_"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince._   
_"Yes, that is so," said the fox._   
_"Then it has done you no good at all!"_   
_"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields."_

~ "Le Petit Prince", Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (fragment) - No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.   
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_Written by Mary S._


	2. Chapter 1: Slipping Through The Cracks

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **Press the back button and check the Prologue. 

**Author's Note:** Well, I really need to clear some things for you. 

**Timeline:** This first chapter is set **after "Homebodies"**. I got this idea before knowing what the episode was all about and of course it hasn't aired yet, so I apologize for any contradictions or inaccuracies that there might be in the future. The scenario just fit perfectly though.   
This will develop **throughout season 4**. I was thinking about making every chapter some sort of post episode fic (still following this plot), which I eventually will, but since I have no clue regarding the upcoming episodes I'm making up the cases mostly. You just have to imagine that's what happened. Hopefully it'll work just fine since I'm not planning on getting into technical details (it'd work great for the other 3 seasons, but since they're trying to get us to know the characters better this time...) 

**Spoilers:** That's a tough one. I'm thinking **"Overload"**, **"Crash and Burn"**,** "Lady Heather's Box"**,** "Playing With Fire"**,** "Inside The Box"**,** "Homebodies"**;indirectly **"The Stalker"**,** "Too Tough Too Die"**,** "The Accused Is Entitled"**... I'd say just about everything is fair game. Any similarities to season 4 are PURELY COINCIDENTAL, I swear! 

Reviews: NEEDED/WANTED   
Feedback: WELCOME   
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**Chapter 1: Slipping Through The Cracks** ______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

He shifted slightly in his chair, trying to get a little more comfortable, but his aching body didn't seem to notice the change. 

Time had finally caught up with him. 

Pages scattered all over the break room table were silent witnesses of his frustration: too tired to function effectively, too wired to go home and try to get some sleep. 

His eyes struggled to focus, but the pulse of his hand faltered anyway. The coffee he had poured himself about an hour ago was beyond cold, forgotten somewhere between spacing out and pretending he was getting some work done. 

Truth be told, he hadn't even wanted to go home. 

The sound of steps echoed through the empty hall until he heard whoever it was stop right behind him with a gasp, making him turn around. He wasn't really surprised and could easily tell that she hadn't expected him to be there. 

"Wow, you scared me" She acknowledged "This place is graveyard silent. I thought there was no one here." 

He smirked, wishing he could make her assumption come true. Sara just came in, appearing to be as lost in her own thoughts as he was. 

Smelling the rest of the coffee in the pot she started busying herself by throwing it away and making a new pot in a routine he knew she had developed after months of working overtime. 

"I didn't realize you were pulling a double" She commented after a pause. 

"I'm not" He replied, his answer suddenly becoming more meaningful than he had intended it to be. 

Putting the recipient back in its place, she sat in the chair across from him but didn't face him, still too involved in noticing the mess he had made with the cases' files. Feeling extremely self-conscious he concentrated in making some room for her in the table. 

"I know what you mean" She finally turned to him smiling bitterly "Can you believe I *actually* went home and tried to sleep?" 

Nick chuckled softly, knowingly, noticing for the first time that her eyes held an oddly familiar glint. The same look of anguish and despair he had found staring right back at himself in the mirror of the men's room not too long ago, while trying to regain some composure. 

The dark circles under her eyes were also a dead giveaway. 

Both stared intently at each other's worn out shoes not eager to discuss the reasons why that particular case had upset them so much. Still the images of the previous night were permanently burnt in their memories; a reminder of all the pain, suffering and misery the world had to offer to whoever dared to open his eyes and step outside his plastic bubble. 

Or just turn on the 6 o'clock news. 

Complaining felt unfair while contemplating the fact that at least they and their loved ones were not the victims. Not on a regular basis anyway. But being forced to deal with filth and horror night after night didn't come for free and it was a prize they had - knowingly or not - agreed to pay. 

And it was bound to stay with them forever. It didn't matter if they did the best of efforts at being clean the rest of their lives. The blood and the grime were stains they had to learn to live with. 

But both were barely starting to comprehend that while fading to a shadow of themselves in the process. And the reward had seemingly stopped being enough. 

He snorted. 

"What?" Her head shot up, suddenly attentive at what he had to say. 

It was funny the way that human beings were brought together by painful, negative experiences. Nothing like sharing a tragedy of epic proportions to make someone care about what the person beside you has to say. 

"Do you know the reason why I became a CSI?" She shook her head "I thought this was the place to start making a difference." 

She hadn't counted on people and emotions being a factor in the job after deciding to be a CSI. She had wrongfully left it out of the equation and now the consequences had turned out to rise slightly above the limit of what she could take without letting it run every aspect of her life. 

Cases like this always made her reconsider her career choice. But the faces of those she had failed to see in the beginning pushed her forward with more intensity than was healthy, threatening to cause her to burn out like a shooting star. 

"Catching the bad guys is not good enough anymore" He sighed sadly "It doesn't matter if we do the best we can. It's not enough" 

Times like these he almost wished he could be as cold-blooded as Grissom. But he ached, and so did she. 

"People have to live with what happened," She added absently "and there's nothing we can do about it. Giving closure in the best of cases is definitely not enough" 

She closed her eyes and hurried to rub them with her fingers. He could have sworn she was about to cry. 

But he was too overloaded himself to waste time and saliva comforting her, unsuccessfully trying to lie out of pity or mercy by saying that it all would be eventually fine when he felt like he didn't know anything for certain anymore. 

"Come on" He hurried to stand and offer his hand to her. His determination compelled her to oblige and raise to her feet as well, not entirely sure of what he was going to propose. "I'll buy you breakfast, lunch or whatever" 

Sara tried to argue but he was already dragging her all the way down the hall and through the exit door. 

"I don't feel like eating, Nick" She managed weakly. 

"Neither do I, but it beats sitting there feeling sorry for the world" He argued reaching his Tahoe and holding the door open for her to hop in. "I'll drive you back to get your car afterwards, OK?" 

His eyes pleaded silently with her, and she was just too tired to stand her ground. Besides, the salty tears threatening to escape made her eyes - extremely irritated by the deprivation of sleep - sting. 

"Fine" She stated once inside the vehicle "But let's just go to my place. I don't feel like being around people today." 

He nodded, somewhat relieved. 

The ride went by in a tight silence, both having learned that music didn't do anything to erase the unwanted thoughts. None of them had the will to start a meaningless conversation, let alone resume the one that had taken place at the crime lab. 

Which didn't mean the topic at hand had ceased to plague their minds. Fortunately they were only a couple of minutes away. 

She fumbled with the keys making her way to the door while he locked up the Tahoe and jogged towards her. 

"You realize you're settling for a veggie meal, right?" She warned him a little late. He nodded in confirmation while walking past her into her apartment. 

"Whatever it takes to avoid that terrible coffee of yours." His lame attempt at a joke didn't pass unnoticed, and the corner of her lips tugged in a shy smile while she motioned to slap him in the arm. 

His hand caught hers in an automatic reflex but his gaze was fixed in her features, longing to feel as light-hearted and carefree as the small gesture. 

Her laughter couldn't last more than a second but the moment it stopped he immediately missed the sense of ease and release that it had brought, making him yearn for it to numb his jaded soul again. 

All of the sudden her saddened eyes met his, looking for something that had been there, but not knowing exactly where to find it. 

Nick drew her nearer, but she was the one to close the gap and kiss him hungrily. 

************** 

Sara Sidle woke up a little disoriented. It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to her surroundings. Glancing at the watch by the night table she realized she had slept at least six hours, a fairly good amount of time for someone who had complained of insomnia that very same morning. 

He was nowhere in sight, and she wasn't about to hold that against him. She successfully tried to dig her jeans out from somewhere under the bed where she had a vague recollection they had ended up; the rest of her clothes were a totally different story. She finally took a random T-shirt out of a drawer and put it in. 

She found him frantically turning her living room upside down. 

"Looking for something?" She half smiled amusedly. 

"Um, you wouldn't happen to know where my socks are, would you?" He asked, awkwardness written all over his face. His search was forgotten as he paused to button up his shirt and tuck it inside his jeans before zipping them up as well. 

"Did you check between the covers?" She sat at the table, far more relaxed than he pretended to be. He shook his head. 

"I didn't want to wake you" He answered while heading to her bedroom. She quickly picked up the clothes that remained scattered all over the place and put them with the laundry before returning to her chair. 

He came back looking just as tense and uncomfortable as before, but with both socks and shoes on. 

"I wasn't going to leave" He forced out. She rewarded him with a smile that did nothing for his nerves. 

"I know. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did though" 

"Right, sure. Look, I'm not an idiot. If the girl leaves, she's just confused; if the guy leaves, he's a womanizer" 

"Can you chill and sit down for a minute?" He cautiously took a sit at the other end of the table. Sara had almost started to feel sorry for him. After all, he did look like he was about to have a panic attack. 

"I suppose this is the part where we have 'The Talk'" He stated, and braced himself for whatever painful declaration she was about to make. She winced. 

"I'm sorry Nick. I'm not in love with you" The words sounded harsh and empty to her, so much that for a second she believed the look of relief in his face was just her imagination. 

But indeed, he had let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

"You don't know how happy I am to hear those words from you, Sar" He smiled between breaths. "I'm not in love with you either" 

"That's a happy coincidence, I suppose" 

Both chuckled animatedly, and he stood up again. 

"I better get going. There's only about a couple of hours 'til the night shift starts, we were asleep a while." 

His stomach growled loudly preventing him from more babbling. 

"Don't be ridiculous. There's no reason why we can't be adults about this" She said standing up and walking her way past him and towards the fridge. 

"Well, sorry if I feel a little self-conscious after sleeping with you. Casual sex with friends usually doesn't turn out so well" He grimaced. She just had to smile at that. 

Beneath the 'ladies' men' cover Nick Stokes actually had a kind, gentlemanly heart. 

"All I'm saying is: it's already happened. We can't change that. It'll never happen again, let's move on" 

"And don't let it ruin our friendship." He concluded a little bit more convinced "Sounds like a plan" 

"Now you're talking" She smiled and started going through the many cabinets of her kitchen "We never got around lunch so I'll fix us dinner" 

"You seem a little too comfortable with all of this" He frowned, suspicious. Sara sighed momentarily distracted from her housewife role and becoming a little bit more serious. 

"I'm committed to not letting my past mistakes run my life." Her honesty finally won him over and made him relax. "Plus it's not like it was a terribly bad thing. I *do* feel better than this morning" 

"There's the truth at last!" He joked loosely. "I'd always thought that you wanted me" 

"I knew you had me all figured out!" She retorted rolling her eyes. 

"Look, all I want --" His sudden loss of words made her turn to face him, and he took a step forward at the risk of invading her personal space "I don't want this to be the reason why you won't come to me when you're feeling down. I don't want this to be in the middle" 

Touched by his sweetness, she couldn't help but rise on her tiptoes and give him a slight peck. 

"I promise, you are at the very top of my list" The sound of her voice was as soft as the pressure of her lips on his. 

He smiled and she shifted her attention back to the kitchen; the atmosphere had changed to one of affably camaraderie. 

"Now go set the table" She commanded. 

"Yes ma'am." He complied, wondering how on Earth he had gotten so lucky. A few minutes of comfortably silent contemplation passed between them before any of them felt the need to voice their thoughts. 

"By the way, in case you were wondering, your underwear is under my bed." 

- END OF CHAPTER 1   
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_Written by Mary S._   
_Thanks Dolly, your Beta reading rocks!!!_


	3. Chapter 2: Terms Of Agreement

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own them, they own me, I own the plot. Capisci? 

**Author's Note:** Keep in mind that, while there is definitely a plot to follow, this fic is more like a scrapbook where **every chapter is hardly a continuation of the previous one**. 

By the way, I would like to thank the people who have reviewed my stories. You really made my day! *hint**hint*   
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**Chapter 2: Terms of Agreement (21 Things)** _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

The drive back to the crime lab was long and silent. He heard her sigh a couple of times, though. 

It was common knowledge that when Sara Sidle was upset she refused to talk to anyone about it, denying her ever so obvious feelings. 

Consequently the night shift had made it an unspoken rule not to try to get her to open up, seeing as it put both her and the designated interlocutor in a highly uncomfortable situation. Not to mention the posterior tension and awkward atmosphere that as a matter of fact affected everybody else as well. 

Then again, he was all about breaking the rules nowadays, wasn't he? 

She was perfectly still on the passenger's seat, a blank look in her eyes that told him how far gone in thought she really was. He could have easily believed she was in a catatonic state if he hadn't noticed her thumb rubbing a spot in her arm right above her left wrist. 

"What's that?" He asked cautiously. 

"This? Nothing, I just bruise easily" She informed raising her arm to show him the faint mark. He waited another couple of minutes to draw her attention again. 

"You OK?" She turned her head to him with an expression that told him she had been expecting the words to come out of his lips. 

Which didn't necessarily mean she was happy about it. 

"How many times have I told you I'm fine? Do you *ever* listen to me?" 

Now he remembered why he had agreed to that rule in the first place. 

"We're --" 

"Worried about me, I know." She interrupted, having heard that very same speech a thousand times on a couple of hundred different occasions. "What's the point in asking if you're not going to believe me anyway?" 

"We believe you!" He defended. 

"Right." She rolled her eyes while turning entirely to face him. At least now he was sure he had her full attention. "Grissom sent me back to the lab with you because he thought you might need help to drive the Tahoe." 

She smirked bitterly. She hated it when people made decisions on her account, especially based on assumptions. 

But she hated even more to disappoint her boss by revealing herself so weak. It made her feel ashamed of her lack of professionalism and threatened in what she considered she was best at, her job. 

Silence fell upon them and laying his eyes on her one last time he was about to drop the topic when she started to talk again. 

"I will be OK, eventually. I'm sorry for snapping at you, Nick" 

A small smile from him reassured her to go on. 

"I just hate that kind of cases. Is it just me, or this is getting harder?" 

He shook his head promptly. 

"It is getting harder." He agreed with a hint of pain in his voice. "I was just as affected as you in there. Why do you think Gris told me to leave? To improve my babysitting skills with you?" 

His attempt at comforting her had resulted in a reluctant confession and Sara appreciated his honesty, knowing how hard it was for him to make the admission. She tried to find the words to lead the conversation to a less insightful subject, but decided to remain silent after a few seconds. 

After all talking to him wasn't that hard, or so she had discovered. 

And what made it easier was the fact that he never seemed to be surprised by anything she said. He often took into every detail, incorporating all the information he could. 

That was partly what made him such a good CSI, and a good listener. 

He smiled. It amazed him how quickly she drifted back to wonderland, but it didn't bother him. Especially not when he knew how awful she was feeling. Especially not when he was feeling the exact same way. 

"Hey" He called her back "Do you want to go for a drink afterwards?" 

************** 

"I can't believe it" She muttered under her breath, her head between her hands. 

"I thought you were the one totally comfortable with this" 

A barefoot Nick was right behind her, leaning on the door frame of his bedroom, a slight smile on his lips mocking her. He looked far more comfortable than he had been at her house. A matter of hostile environment, she guessed. 

"I appreciate you staying" He continued, walking past her into his living room. She diverted her attention from her shoelace to contemplate his fake amusement. 

"I figured we might need to talk about *this*" 

He frowned and sat on the couch, still focused on her. 

"I thought there was no *this*. It was supposed to be a one-time thing if my memory serves well" He recalled. Sara smirked and moved onto the couch, next to him. 

"Yeah, well a week ago it was, but it doesn't seem too much like it now." 

He shrugged, afraid to voice the uncertainty she was pointing at. 

"It won't happen again." He stated doubtingly "Right?" 

Silence was all the answer he got. She was staring intently at her hands. He sighed tiredly, feeling that they didn't need that kind of pressure at the moment. 

"We're having comfort sex, Nick. I'm not sure how 'in control' we are here." Her voice was barely a whisper, dripping with an honesty she felt both of them deserved. 

"Well, you just institutionalized it" 

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked, confused by his sudden quietness. 

"It means that by saying it out loud you just made it real" He explained, making her smile in disbelief for the second time. 

"We just slept together for totally selfish reasons. Believe me, Nick, it doesn't get more real than that" 

He chuckled, determined to keep the situation from becoming a drama. 

"Then we are already here, aren't we?" She nodded reluctantly. Some things were too embarrassing to freely acknowledge. "If we are going to do this, I suggest we better set up some rules" 

Sara raised her gaze to check how serious he was being about it. 

"Isn't the 'no strings attached' clause the whole point?" It wasn't like she had experience in the meaningless relationships field, at least not by conscious choice. 

"Yes, but since we're friends and coworkers I have a couple of rules of my own to salvage our fraternal bond" She rubbed her temples with her fingers. She couldn't believe they were even considering it, much less agreeing on that kind of involvement. 

"By all means, go ahead" She conceded. He looked much keener on the idea now, if not amused by the whole ordeal. 

"First and foremost, we're not telling anybody about this." 

"*Anybody*" She emphasized "That includes Warrick. And Greg." Her eyes became wide in horror at the thought. He laughed. 

"Of course, this will be just between you and me." He clarified. "Which also entails rule number two." 

He looked expectantly at her reaction as he said the words. 

"When you're with me, you're with *me*" 

Closing her eyes tiredly, she didn't know whether to slap him for making such and implication or hold his hand at the sudden display of insecurity. 

"How dare you imply I could be thinking of somebody else?!" She reproached almost offended. 

"For one you're supposed to be in love with Grissom, remember?" He hinted, knowingly. Sara softened. 

"Fair enough." Was all she attempted to reply. 

Nick leaned back happily, thinking that he had covered all the bases. 

"There's one problem, though" She mischievously added, fully aware of his satisfaction. His questioning expression only increased her amusement. "How are we going to keep the secret?" 

He reflected on it only for a couple of seconds. 

"Well, my dear Sara, it's only a matter of being careful" He elaborated while putting his arm around her shoulders. "Be careful with what we say, be careful with what we do, and don't get caught." 

"Nick we work at the number two crime lab in the country. They're going to pick up on something." 

But his reassuring grin was enough for the both of them. 

"Without a confession, material evidence or an eye witness it doesn't matter what they suspect, they can't prove anything." He said simply. 

That might just work. 

- END OF CHAPTER TWO.   
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_Written by Mary S._


	4. Chapter 3: Ungood

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **Same ol', same ol'. 

**Author's Note:** Well, get ready. It's time for a little bit of angst. Those of you who enjoy the fluff, don't worry, it'll be back in a few chapters. Since life's a little bit of everything, I'm trying hard not to label the story. Not that I assume my story resembles life itself perfectly, 'cause it's a TV show we're talking about... *grins sheepishly* which doesn't mean CSI is not accurate or realistic as far as TV shows go (see, I'm babbling now). I better shut up.   
(I'm surprised you're still reading after all the nonsense above) 

Thanks for the reviews, u guys! I feel overwhelmed:)   
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**Chapter 3: Ungood** _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Catherine sat quietly in the break room, waiting to be paged by Greg. Sara hadn't returned from the crime scene yet, still looking for pieces of evidence they might have missed. She didn't mind the extra work. 

They had already processed the place and returned with the sample the DNA lab tech was currently working on. Even Grissom had decided to spend his time in something a little more productive, filing more and more reports in his office. 

But Sara could be so stubborn when she wanted to. 

She sighed and smiled. As opposed as their personalities were, sometimes she couldn't help but see a lot of someone she once had been, in her young colleague. 

From afar a murmur echoed through the hall, making her wonder if she should investigate its origin, but the following sounds of what could be a fight made the decision for her. 

It wasn't hard to find ground zero, a few coworkers - distracted from their tasks just they way she had been - had already started to gather around the interrogation room. 

The door opened with a loud bang and she barely saw a dark-haired man sent flying to the opposite wall. 

Nick. 

He practically bounced back from the wall, leaping towards the door. A very agitated Warrick tried to prevent him from entering into the room again. 

She could barely make out what was being said between them. It was all shouts and ragged breaths. Sara was standing at the other end of the hall, just as bewildered as the rest of them. 

And even with spectators, Nick's anger didn't seem to diminish. The struggling continued until his partner finally used his advantage in height to slam him against the wall one last time and punch him hard in the stomach. 

With the wind knocked out of him, he collapsed to him knees gasping for air, but never stopping the unsuccessful attempts at getting back on his feet. 

That was the precise time when Grissom decided to dig his way out of his office and start dispersing the crowd. 

"OK, people, there's work to be done. Nothing to see. Come on, we don't have forever," He called while making his way towards Warrick. "You too Cath. I'll find you later." 

She nodded, understandingly. The Texan had stood up a little more calmly, but the odd glint in his eyes made his face a grim spectacle. 

"What the hell happened here?" She heard their boss ask. 

"Nick tried to practice his boxing technique with that scumbag over there," He pointed to the now closed door where Brass was babysitting the suspect. The tone in his voice revealed how much he wished they could get rid of that kind of people. 

He just shook his head sadly and walked into one of the labs dragging Sara with him, leaving their boss and their friend alone. 

"Can you give him a ride, Sar? He's in no condition to drive and I have to wrap up the case here." 

"Of course," She cringed at the shouts coming from the hall. Their coworker remained silent, though, impotence making him unable to voice his thoughts or reasons. There were no acceptable excuses anyway. 

Both came out after the yelling had stopped to find - as expected - Grissom standing there by himself. Her partner went back to the suspect of the case he was working on with Nick. 

"I didn't find anything." She simply stated. The frown on his face worried her. "I'll take him home. The shift's almost over" 

He hinted a faded smile and not for the first time she wondered what was it exactly that made her feel so shy around him. 

"Tell him to take tonight off. Tomorrow I expect to see him in my office, but he shouldn't be expecting to work." 

"OK," She whispered. The look in her eyes was expectant, waiting for something to happen, a signal, something, anything. Just like always. 

"You're going to miss him!" He hurried her. She obliged, disappointed. After all she had more important things to do. 

"Sara" 

"Yes?" She turned promptly. 

"Drive safe" He smiled. And she returned the gesture. 

************** 

The ride - like every ride that involved them lately, she noticed - had been pretty silent. He got out of the Tahoe carelessly and entered to his place the same way, leaving the door opened behind him, for her to close gently. 

She had planned on leaving after seeing him safely home, but the tightness of his clenched jaw had changed her mind. 

She watched him pace like a caged animal for a couple of minutes, not sure about taking a seat and offering her listening services. He did a pretty good job at ignoring her while he went to the kitchen. 

Then, glass in hand, he proceeded to look for the bottle of scotch he was planning on drink from. Sara watched him frantically move losing his temper more and more with each step to end up smashing the glass against the wall. 

The sound of it made her jump like a scared cat, but he didn't seem to notice. He just sat on the couch, frustrated, with his hands covering his face. 

Other women would have easily freaked out at his outburst, but she had learned long ago that there were certain times when sadness could be mistaken for anger. 

So she calmly took her place beside him, waiting until he felt like sharing what was going on inside him. 

Silences had stopped being awkward between them. 

"The bastard got away," He finally said. His slumped shoulders resembled little of the man she used to go to for comfort. But there was something about this newfound vulnerability that she felt reassuring nonetheless. 

"He is guilty, but the evidence is not conclusive." He elaborated bitterly. 

She sighed and took one of his hands in her own, caressing its back with her thumbs. The movement made him turn to face her, and she captured his lips in one soft kiss. 

Nick smiled slightly and rested his forehead on hers, his eyes closed. She could sense him relaxing slowly. 

"Come on," She said a few minutes later, standing up with his hand still entwined with hers. He subsided to her request tiredly. 

"Not tonight Sara," He started, trying hard not to hurt her feelings "I'm not in the mood." 

"I know," She whispered with a smile on her lips, dragging him to his bed, where she held him for the rest of the night. 

************** 

"Well, that T-shirt definitely looks better on you than it looks on me," He said giving her an appreciative look. She just smiled at his change of mood and sat back on the bed. 

But in the split second it had taken her to walk the distance from the bathroom, his features had grown somber again. 

"Look, Sar, I want to apologize. I acted like a self-centered jerk before." 

She resumed her place beside him leaning her head gently on his chest, and he hugged her. He always felt better like this, holding her as if he could protect her from everything. 

"You have to work on that temper of yours," She stated, relying on the feeling of his hand stroking her hair. He chuckled. 

"Sometimes I wish I could be a little more like Griss. Nothing seems to touch him." He said absently. 

"Come on Nick. You're the sunniest, brightest human being I know. Everything's personal for you. I love that." 

"I don't know." 

"Really! You were passionate about a case in a way other than scientific for a change. I welcome that." 

"Passionate? You were the one who pulled a gun on a suspect, remember?" 

"I wasn't being passionate, I was suicidal." He chuckled again. She had a way with him... 

"Plus, you *welcome* that? What is that supposed to mean?" 

Sara shifted from her position to be able to meet his eyes as she spoke. 

"I have this theory about Crime Scene Investigation." The expression of her face was sheepish. He smiled. 

"I'm all ears." 

The look in her eyes became blank for a second. 

"Sometimes I think that somewhere in the process of becoming a real CSI we've been stripped of the faculty to believe, to hope. We've seen so much that we are forced to become numb to the wonders that the world has to offer." 

He smiled encouragingly, but she was already lost in her own train of reasoning. 

"I don't want to become that person, Nick. I don't want that. I want to smell the flowers and not think about pollen, bacteria, vegetable DNA and pieces of evidence. I want to remember why everybody loves children." 

Her head back on his chest, her ear had instinctively found the spot above his heart and the sound of its beating had a rather soothing effect on her. 

"I want to remember that love is not all about getting hurt." 

She snuggled closer and held on to him for dear life, for at the moment he was all she had and both knew it. 

~ END OF CHAPTER THREE.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S. Chapter 4 is coming SOON. I promise._   
_**WAIT! **Now press the 'go' button and review. :)_


	5. Chapter 4: Behind Enemy Lines

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended at all (not even respecting the chapter's title). 

**Author's Note:** Well, this is short and just like somebody said, an old idea re-written and (hopefully) perfected according to the actual backbone of the show. 

Thanks to those who chose to review. I don't know where this is going, but I can promise this is not the kind of story where Nick and Sara get together in the first chapter and live happily ever after. Then again, I already kinda got them together in the first chapter, didn't I? My bad. Will amend sometime soon *evil grin*.   
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**Chapter 4: Behind Enemy Lines** _____________________________________________________________________________________________ 

_"And God said: when I made the woman she had to be something special. I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, but at the same time soft enough to comfort those in need of comfort. I gave her a great deal of inner strength to bare the pain of giving birth and even the rejection that sometimes comes from her own children. I gave her a strength that allows her to go on and take care of her family despite all sickness and exhaustion, without complaining even when others give up._   
_I gave her sensibility to love her child under any circumstances, even when the child may hurt her deeply. The same sensibility that makes any sadness, tears or pain in her child's heart go away and makes her share the anxiety and fears of adolescence and even adulthood... I gave her enough strength to be able to forgive her husband's weaknesses and I made her out of one of his ribs so that she could take care of his heart. I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband would never hurt his wife, and sometimes I put difficulties in their way to measure her strength and determination to remain at his side in spite of it all._   
_I gave her real tears that appear exclusively when she needs to express herself beyond words. That is her only weakness... tears that ask for forgiveness for the mistakes and hardness in the heart of mankind."_

~ _Anonymous._

He was waiting for her. Warrick had warned him about their case together that night and her extremely emotional reaction to it. 

Showing up at each other's doors unexpectedly had slowly become a matter of habit. They would drink some tea and talk for hours, and then maybe he would just hold her until the world seemed to rotate in the right direction again. 

That apparently soothed the inner turmoil rather successfully; hers, and his as well. He couldn't remember who had been the one to initiate the tradition but it didn't matter anymore. 

Because as long as she was tangled up in his embrace nothing could touch either of them. 

On the other side of the door her arm was raised, still rather hesitant to do what was no longer unusual. This time there was something different though. 

But she still took a ragged breath and knocked twice. 

After all the warnings from his friend and all the nights the same scene had been replayed, he wasn't ready for the image of her in front of him. 

Sara Sidle, the strongest woman he knew, was crying. 

She wasn't even sobbing loudly and yet the tears managed to make their way down her cheeks. Her arms hugging the tiny frame of her body, that craved for protection. 

Her worn out expression revealed that he hadn't been her first choice. Her red and puffy eyes said she had been crying for a good time before heading to his place. 

And she had wondered the whole way if she would regret that decision later. She was feeling embarrassed and extremely self-conscious, uncomfortable in her own skin. 

They were friends above all things, but she worried about being the first of the two to wear her heart on her sleeve. It required an amount of trust she didn't know she was capable of. 

Her reluctance was understandable because her emotional state implied a deeper need of comfort and commitment than what their little arrangement provided. Uncertainty was written all over her face. 

Uncertainty that he wiped off with an almost imperceptible gesture that motioned her to come in. 

Nick was scared, terrified at the sight of her haunted eyes that always seemed to be hidden behind sunglasses. He had had a glimpse on the truth they could hold during their previous times together, but never anything like that. 

He was aware of the engagement it represented and he accepted her confidence gladly, which didn't mean he knew what to say to make everything right again. 

So he did the only thing he knew. He just held her. 

The warmth of his body became the balm she was longing for and she broke down then and there, shattering his heart in a million pieces. This time the sobs wracked her body as he did his best to kiss the tears away. 

And yet, she wanted more. Tonight, of all nights, she needed more. 

But she never stopped crying. 

************** 

"...and that is the reason why these kind of cases affect me so much." 

She continued drawing patterns on his chest, trying to pretend that pouring her heart out to him wasn't a big deal. His kiss on her forehead was reassuring enough and, relieved, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. 

"That explains a lot." He commented lightly. "As over it as one might be, memories can't be helped" 

"Yeah, but I can't let it affect the way I do my job" 

He tried to chuckle softly, but the sound that came out was strange and unnatural in him. 

"It'll affect you anyway, Sar. That's a battle you can't win. What you *can* do is try and control it. Use the drive." She looked up too meet his eyes, but his gaze was distracted and somehow lost. 

"Well, thanks for telling me I'll never be as good and objective as a CSI as I could have been if nothing had happened." The irony in her voice made him react. 

"Look at us! Number two crime lab in the country: former stripper/addict, compulsive gambler... Here's my theory: to be a good CSI, you must have been on the other side." 

She frowned, not liking the implications of his statement. Or the cynicism that had taken over the conversation. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sara shifted to face him completely but he was avoiding her eyes, again. 

"I mean... I mean that perhaps the reason why we're so good at what we do is because our quest for the truth is driven by the thirst for justice. We don't want the truth for the victims or their loved ones, we want it for ourselves, because at least for a moment we have been them." 

"You're scaring me" She whispered, half jokingly. 

"One way or the other, we all have been in their shoes." He finished. 

Their eyes finally met, and she noticed that his were filled with tears. But most of all, they were pleading with her for a release that she had experienced only a few minutes before. 

It was her time to fear the haunted eyes in front on her and the implications of story they told. 

It was her time to commit with their friendship the way he had by motioning her to come into his place. 

"Nick, is there anything you're not telling me?" She absently licked her lips, and he bitterly smirked, nodding. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

He looked away, hating to be in that position. Hating to put her in that position where she probably felt compelled to show the same attention he had previously shown. No, he couldn't give in to the urge of spilling his guts to her. 

Being a man sometimes sucked. 

And yet, with a soft caress of her hand his eyes were placed on hers again. Eyes that held his gaze with sincerity, compassion and gentleness: the same way he had held her hand as she told her story. 

"It all happened when I was nine..." 

- END OF CHAPTER FOUR.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S. HUGE THANKS TO DUCK!_   
_Short, I know, but it needed to be told._


	6. Chapter 5: Dry Spell

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **You know me. I own everything, I control everything, my word is everybody's command... OF COURSE NOT!!! 

**Author's Note:** Well, I think this could hardly be considered angsty. And to those of you who have actually asked, sorry but this will be a triangle. There'll be a lot more N/S, but we should be seeing plenty of Grissom in all due time.   
Sorry for the delay but I tried to re-arrange my updating schedule according to Snickers Day. J If you want info on future updates, just ask and don't review anonymously (or at least leave an e-mail addy behind). 

I would like to thank **sweet like chocolate**,** oOoOo**,** Nadiah**,** Chaos**,** Tanya**,** candaceFABULOUS**,** Rachael**,** @Hockey_Gurl@**,** Lisa**,** MissyJane**,** Sara Grissom**,** skyler**,** cRaZyPiXiE**,** asd**,** FREAK!!**,** Gray Duck**,** chimaera-104**,** forensicsfan **and** Agent Rouka** for your comments and thoughts(which doesn't release you from your reviewing duty, k?).   
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**Chapter 5: Dry Spell (Withdrawal)** _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

It certainly looked like the weather knew nothing about timing. Middle of November and it still felt like it was a hundred degrees in the shade. 

For the first time in forever, Nick was actually glad to be working the graveyard shift. 

The cooling effects of the shower he had taken before going to work were wearing off. His cotton T-shirt was starting to stick to his skin, and for a moment he wished he could go to work wearing his trunks. 

Grissom would be royally pissed, but he knew for a fact Sara wouldn't mind at all. 

Sara. 

Things were back to normal between the two of them. Fortunately they had been spared the gut wrenching cases for the last few weeks. Which meant that the amount of time they spent together had been drastically reduced. 

Reduced to the time they spent together at work. 

Coffee breaks had become ritualistic, and they had vowed to have breakfast after the shift at least once a week. 

Their friendship had improved and when they were by themselves she was no longer short with him. She smiled, a lot. They talked about anything and everything, and although she was still reserved it was different somehow. Like they shared a secret connection that no one could touch. 

He had no doubt whatsoever that she would go to him if she needed him, because he wouldn't hesitate to look for her either. 

The actual problem was that they hadn't needed each other in quite a while. 

And it was driving him crazy. 

Nothing even remotely similar had ever happened to him before. He had always found Sara attractive and it had never interfered with his work, let alone his ability to reason in her presence. 

He wasn't obsessed, he wasn't a pervert, he wasn't *that* needy. 

But now he hadn't slept well for the last couple of days and when he did he ended up needing a cold shower anyway. 

Blame it on the heat wave, right? 

He had even considered showing up at her door the way he had done so many times before. He could also picture her kicking him out of her house half a second after making a move. 

Feeling bad suddenly looked great, being narrowed as his only option. 

For the time being, the air conditioning of the crime lab was doing wonders for his sanity. 

Until some psycho loony freak decided to go on a killing spree by Lake Mead and Grissom told him to ditch his current case, pack his kit and hop into the backseat of his Tahoe. 

'Where everybody is waiting', he had said. 

Warrick was with Brass at the scene trying to keep the officers from contaminating what little evidence there might be. Even Greg had been called in. Their boss was driving; Catherine was, as usual, on the passenger's seat. 

Sara was crushed beside him. 

She just sat there, offering him a small smile but otherwise looking just as uncomfortable and sweaty as he was. She shifted slightly and her arm accidentally brushed his side. 

He cursed under his breath. It was bad enough to have her leg rubbing his. Overcoming the memories was already enough challenge for him. Her now familiar smell was numbing his senses. 

His karma was catching up with him, he knew. 

Having her so close was killing him. 

And now the air conditioning of the car was doing nothing for him. 

His coworker's Tahoe was a welcomed sight and he decided he was riding back with him. There was no power on Earth that could convince him to share a close space with her until he found a way to keep his hormones in check. 

Jumping out of his boss' car wasn't very subtle, but nobody seemed to mind. 

The crime scene perimeter was huge and he voluntarily started to work on one of the bodies. His eagerness did look suspicious to Grissom who raised an eyebrow before assigning the rest of the tasks. 

Physical distance didn't hurt his goal of keeping her out of his mind, and the gruesome nature of the crime proved to be an effective - and certainly welcomed - distraction. 

For about five minutes. 

He sighed, and rubbed his eyes at the sight in front of him. She just had to go and process the only body anywhere near him. Sometimes he wondered if she knew what she was doing to him. 

Other times, he wondered if she did it on purpose. 

"Want a hand? I'm done taking pictures." He heard from behind. 

"Wouldn't mind one, War." Whatever it took to make him focus on the job. 

"You OK, man?" 

Well, there were many possible answers. Explaining to his coworker that the heat made him horny wasn't one of them; let alone elaborate on the subject of his lust. 

"Just a little tired." 

"Don't worry, I hear the day shift is going to take over the case so we might be able to go home soon." 

He smiled weakly and absentmindedly kneeled over the dead body. Home. Alone. Not the ideal scenario, but at this point he was sure that she would smack him hard in the head if she knew what he was thinking. With all due reason. 

After all, what was wrong with him anyway? They were just friends. 

Friends that occasionally slept together. 

"I'm done here!" Catherine yelled. Grissom nodded to her and motioned the coroners to move. 

"These bodies are all yours gentlemen. Nick? Warrick?" 

"Done too." His partner answered, eyeing him strangely. 

It looked like he was about to say something, but he just frowned. 

"What the --?" 

A few seconds later it was pouring, and not for the first time he wondered what the hell was wrong with the weather. 

Somebody tossed him a body bag and he did his best at covering the body until the paramedics brought a gurney. 

He stood up taking in the scene before him. 

Sara was right there, soaking wet. Her hair was dripping, and the sight made his heart skip a beat or two. 

His perception of the reality around them was becoming blurry. 

Sensing his scrutinizing gaze she turned to meet his eyes, and its impact struck him like a lightning. He could feel the rain on his now clinging clothes; he knew he was supposed to feel cold and miserable, yet he could have sworn the temperature around them had risen. 

Maybe she wasn't as oblivious as he had thought. 

"Sara!" 

Suddenly both of them were very aware of the fact that they were the only ones still standing there, under the wrathful eye of Gil Grissom. 

She just turned around and moved quickly towards the vehicle without giving him another look. He started to move as well, but as soon as she got into the passenger's seat they drove away. 

He was riding with Warrick after all. 

"Just in time, huh?" 

Nick blinked twice before shutting the car's door. 

"What?" 

"We finished processing the scene just in time." Catherine elaborated with a small smile. "We got all the evidence." 

Not exactly what was in his mind. Flooding his friend's backseat, he was finally feeling cold and miserable. She had been sucked back into Grissomland. 

Just in time. As usual. 

The ride back to the lab wasn't as long as it had seemed before, but not short enough. She was gone and so was Grissom. 

Now he was sure to go home and try to convince himself that the unusual weather was the cause of his inner turmoil. 

"Nick!" 

"Yeah." He turned. He had forgotten Greg had actually been on the field with them. 

"Here." He said, handing him a small piece of paper that had his name scrambled on it. The handwriting was familiar. 

Of course. Greg had ridden back with them. 

_ Meet me in 30, my place._

Sometimes even Gil Grissom was too late. 

************** 

"I think it would be safe to say our friendship is officially ruined." 

She laughed from the other end of the bed. It didn't look like the rain would stop anytime soon. 

"Ruined?" He crinkled his nose. He hadn't felt that good in a long, long, long time. 

"Casual sex doesn't ruin friendships?" She teased, disbelieving. If there was any truth in her statement, she couldn't bring herself to care. 

"Look at it this way," He explained while propping himself on his elbow. "Now we are more than friends, we are partners in crime. That *has* to be stronger." 

She chuckled animatedly, enjoying the feeling of his hand caressing her leg. 

"I wouldn't know about that, but I'll take your word for it." She smiled. "After all you are the expert." 

The smile became a bemused one as she felt the pillow hit her head slightly. 

"Hey I resent that comment!" He protested mockingly. 

It didn't prevent the pillow from flying back and hitting him. 

"I'll have you know that contrary to popular belief, I don't sleep around." Sara had to soften at his cute pout and the slight hint of hurt in his eyes. 

"I'm sorry, but it's not my fault. I'm not the one with a reputation." 

Nick sighed, and the smile forming in his lips suddenly acquired a mischievous glint. 

"Well, not that kind of reputation anyway..." 

If there was something she couldn't resist, it was a declaration as vague as that, especially when it referred to her. 

"Hold that thought." She commanded as she moved quickly back to his side. He shifted, making room for her, and she leveled herself to meet his eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

For whatever reason, she found herself asking him that a lot lately. The good news was that she actually had a genuine interest in his answers, and he always seemed eager to elaborate. 

"It means I could go tomorrow, stand on the break room table and tell the world we're having sex no strings attached, and no one would ever believe me." 

He couldn't help but brush away a strand of hair that threatened to fall into her face. Feelings or no feelings involved, she was still beautiful. 

And she loved the attention. 

"Your point being?" She asked slightly distracted by his touch. 

"You're the good girl. Kind of uptight if you ask me..." Both of them smiled, but the good natured fun didn't save him from a well deserved slap in the arm. 

And his hand was now caressing her sides. 

"You're the kind of girl my parents would love." He whispered. "Which makes me think you're only doing this to piss Gil off." 

She rolled her eyes, but didn't move. 

"How come everytime I sleep with you we always end up having some awfully deep heart-to-heart talk?" 

"How come the only time you ever change the subject is when I start talking about Grissom?" 

Feelings or no feelings involved, he still needed to know where they stood. She smiled, acknowledging his right to an answer. 

"Grissom is never going to find out about this." She stated. 

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow, and she nodded. "How can you be so sure?" 

She smiled and pushed him causing him to lie entirely on his back before rolling on top of him again. 

"Because I'm done being the good girl." 

- END OF CHAPTER FIVE.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S._


	7. Chapter 6: Once Bitten

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **Yes, mine, my own, my preciousss!!! (this is me being delusional). 

**Author's Note:** Some thoughts on the feedback.   
I really appreciate **all** your comments. And I really appreciate you agonizing over this thing that I like to call "Wasting Time". Makes me feel, you know, kinda needed :) Seriously, be patient. Most of you have tortured me with your own fics, so deal with me. In case you haven't noticed, you know how I like my men. Very drunk and very brokenhearted. Well not really, only in my fics :)   
Now, to my fellow G/Sers. BE PATIENT, people. I stated in the prologue that I was a Snicker, so you have been warned. That doesn't mean Sara will end up with Nick (doesn't mean she won't either). It means it's a lot easier for me to portrait things this way. I am making an honest effort to understand Grissom and the logic of his relationship with Sara, I swear I am. Gentle enlightenment is totally welcomed.   
Grissom is and will be involved in this, I promise. It might take a couple of chapters to get to the point where you're mildly satisfied. So don't flame, 'cause you've been warned. And I don't mean to sound rude, but feel free to stop reading anytime you want. IF anything, it won't be my loss.   
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**Chapter 6: Once Bitten** ______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

The ladies' room was quiet. Almost too quiet, she noticed. In her experience, too quiet meant she was not alone: there was somebody there that didn't want to be noticed. 

Her sudden discomfort at the scenario was interrupted by a sound that proved her wrong. Somebody was there, and apparently didn't mind at all being noticed. 

Sara flushed the toilet and came out. Catherine breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Maybe she was just being paranoid. 

"Hey, Cath." 

"Hey" She answered, shifting her attention from her make up back to her friend. Something was unusual. "Someone had a wild night." 

The mischievous smile playing in her lips didn't go unnoticed, and the younger CSI hurried to dismiss any suspicions from her coworker. 

"Nothing like that," She smiled "just a lot of work." 

"After pulling a double?" The brunette nodded and kept washing her hands, not daring to look up. Everybody knew Sara Sidle was physiologically incapable of lying. It was amazing they had gotten that far. 

Besides, Catherine seemed to possess a sixth sense when it came to her. 

"Did you cut yourself shaving?" 

The question made her look up almost immediately, at the risk of blowing her cover. Her bewildered expression was enough answer. 

"Then I suppose that's a hickey." She explained, amused, while pointing a spot in her neck. 

"Oh. My. God." She looked closer into the mirror. Part of her wished the Earth would just open and swallow them both, but she chose to laugh instead. 

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you have a new boyfriend!" The blonde slapped her playfully in the arm. "When do we get to meet that mystery man of yours?" 

For a second she thought she had heard a sound coming from one of the bathrooms, but it was just Sara choking. 

Paranoid. 

The knowing smile in her partner's lips was too mischievous to ignore though, and the realization dawned quickly. She gaped. 

"Oh, Sara! Don't tell me you're not going to see him again!" 

Where was a camera when you needed one? 

"I don't know." She answered. "If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't the first time we went out." 

Somehow she hoped the revelation would be enough for her, but she didn't mind much what she thought anyway. 

Catherine glared at Sara and tossed her some make up. 

"Do something about that before going into the break room, or you won't hear the end of it." She warned her before heading out. 

Sara just locked the door behind her friend. 

"So, hot date last night?" 

"Wipe that smug smile off of your face, Stokes. That was a close call." She said, trying to focus on how to make the small bruise unnoticeable. 

She wished she didn't have to face the other two fully trained CSIs. 

"Hey, I didn't drag myself in here, remember?" 

Their eyes met for a second and both smiled briefly. She turned back to the mirror, and he decided to let himself out before somebody else chose to put the facilities to good use. 

After all, there was no reason to stay there. 

"Nick?" 

"Yeah?" He responded, expecting her to prevent him from leaving. The twinkle in her eyes gave him fake hope. 

"Zip up." 

************** 

"Nice of you to join us." 

The irony in her boss' voice made her doubt her skills, and for a moment she panicked thinking that maybe the make up wasn't as perfect as it had seemed a few second ago. 

She looked into Catherine's eyes for reassurance. The older woman nodded. 

32 years old and she still yearned for his approval, like he was her father. Like she owed him something. Like she owed him everything. 

Nothing farther from the truth. 

"Now that we are all here I have some announcements to make." He seemed to take some sort of twisted, empty pleasure in putting her down today. Like he was bitter because of her. 

Like she had hurt him. 

She wondered how much he knew about her being late. 

"Sara," She looked expectantly, looking for a clue that could lead to an answer. "You're also working on Friday." 

No clue. No emotion. No nothing. 

"Nick, you and Catherine..." 

"No." Her voice faltered, but the level was loud enough for everyone to hear. "I can't work on Friday. It's my night off." 

The room was suddenly dead silent, and Warrick felt as if some unspoken rule had finally been broken. 

Grissom's eyes flickered twice before turning back to face her. 

Maybe his surgery hadn't gone that well. 

And yet the determined look in her eyes told him it wasn't a matter of hearing. 

"I know that, but I need you to work on Friday." His tone was stubborn, but his expression had softened considerably. 

He felt like a kid that had walked a few blocks away from home and didn't recognize his surroundings anymore. 

But he had to put on his brave face, because he was the boss. So he just turned back and tried to focus in giving assignments. 

"I have a date. I haven't had a day off in who knows how long. I'm not about to postpone it." 

Nick had never heard a sound so deafening before. 

Yes, Sara Sidle was all up for the dating scene. 

Their arrangement was anything but specific regarding exclusiveness, and he had been eager to narrow the ties that bound them when she brought up the topic. 

Jealousy wasn't strange to him, but he wasn't about to ask from her what he was neither ready nor disposed to surrender. 

And he was taking it a lot better than Gil Grissom was. 

His boss' face had become a mask of bewilderment. She wasn't asking for permission. She wasn't letting him know what she was doing so he would have a chance to stop her with some lame excuse. 

His mix of emotions was now evident. That was new, and Sara felt like she had accomplished something big. 

She wasn't about to back down though. That was evident too. 

The spectators watched the silent argument back and forth, from her defiant eyes to his, now full with an odd sense of betrayal. And the anger that usually came along with it. 

It started to become very obvious what would follow. He would play the professional card as a cover, something he had done quite a few times. He would tell her how much she was needed. How much *he* needed her. 

And she would call him on it. 

And all Hell would break loose. 

"How 'bout I cover for Sara on Friday night?" 

She turned to meet Nick's eyes, an eyebrow raised. Their relationship was lax, but she had never expected him to step up so she could go out with some guy. 

Then again, that probably wasn't the reason why he had volunteered. 

Her eyes looked back for Gil's, but he just wasn't there anymore. His gaze fixed on the papers he was holding, he nodded silently. Back to his measured, professional, extremely cool self. 

Now she was infuriated. 

************** 

The anger still in the surface prevented her from seeing many things that night, especially the hand that yanked her into the broom closet as she was walking down the hallway. 

"Nick Stokes what the *hell* do you think you're doing?!" 

In other circumstances he would have laughed whole heartedly at her startled expression, but for the time being that wouldn't have been very wise. 

"Sorry I scared you." He apologized quickly. "Are you OK?" 

She was still panting. 

"You almost gave me a heart attack, Nick. I'm OK." 

"That's not what I was talking about." 

Of course not. It wasn't humanly possible for him to leave it like that, was it? 

"I know." 

Not for the first time, she wondered why it was so hard for her to talk to him about Grissom, or situations that involved him. 

Perhaps it was just the fact that the subject involved her heart, which was the one part of her body that wasn't included in their arrangement. 

At least not that way. 

"Thanks for covering for me on Friday." She added, softening. 

"Yeah, about that..." He scoffed, and paused, unsure of what to say. 

His pager started beeping. Just in time, if it hadn't been for the fact that it wasn't a conversation that could be postponed. He didn't even bother checking it. 

He just threw it over his shoulder. 

She stifled a laugh, and once again he wished they could be in a different situation. A less awkward one, where he could enjoy that fuzzy feeling that came from making her smile. 

"Sara..." His face had just become dead serious. Which was totally unusual given the fact that it wasn't really hard for him to talk to people. 

"Oh my God. You're jealous!" She squealed, really entertained. 

He frowned. 

"Am not!" 

"Nick..." She smirked knowingly. Being overprotective was just his nature. 

"Well maybe a little." He conceded. Admitting it was just a small step, both knew she wouldn't change her mind only because he told her so. 

Not after refusing to do so for the man she loved. 

"But that's not the reason I wanted to talk to you." He continued. "I'm more like, worried." 

There was no way to put it nicely, and he had to be the one to bring it up. Everything had to have a limit. 

"I don't mean to sound rude anything..." 

Today was 'realizations day'. 

She was starting to see what his discomfort was all about exactly when her pager started beeping. 

And she did check it. 

"That's Grissom." She plainly stated. 

But the look in her eyes said it all. 

"Wait, Sara," He unconsciously reached for her arm. 

Her glare was suddenly cold and distant. 

_ Note to self: never make Sara choose between Griss and me._

But that was OK, because he didn't intend to. 

"I really need to know." 

She softened, but it just wasn't the same. 

"Don't worry. If I ever so much as think about sleeping with any of my dates, you will be the first to know." 

He smiled, thankful for the reassurance. 

"Because Nick, whenever that happens, *this* is over." 

- END OF CHAPTER SIX.   
___________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S._


	8. Chapter 7: Primal Needs

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill. 

**Author's Note:** Well, this is very, very short. And needed. Hope you appreciate the update. (Feedback!)   
_______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

**Chapter 7: Primal Needs** _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

"I can't believe you did that!" 

Sara took the keys from his nervous hands, unlocked the door and stepped in almost automatically, pretty much engrossed in the conversation. He followed her in, just as distractedly. 

"What did you want me to do? He was yelling at you!" He scowled vehemently, frustrated at her stubbornness. She couldn't help but smirk. 

"Nick," She paused to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. The amused smile playing on her lips betrayed her, though. "You hit Hank, in front of the entire mall. The security guards had to drag you away." 

They had gone shopping that afternoon, the same way they had a couple of times before. Running into her former boyfriend wasn't part of the plan, but it had made the experience much more interesting. 

The man was a jerk. That had already been established. He had hurt her a lot, and her coworker had wanted nothing but teach him a thing or two on how to treat ladies. The chance to do so had never come and it certainly hadn't been his place at the time. 

But it was now. 

And Nick didn't understand why she was lecturing him, like he had done something wrong. So he avoided her eyes, which didn't prevent him from speaking his mind. 

"He deserved it." He finally stated, considering it an argument that could not be refuted. A childlike pout graced his face, and any traces of coldness in her face faded away. "Besides, he was a baby about it." 

She chuckled. 

"I particularly liked the part where you warned him to stay away from me while he bled his nose out. Very manly." 

"Yeah well, sue me for trying to be a gentleman and defend your honor." 

He took a glass and poured himself some water, still flustered. Time to cut him some slack. 

"Hey," She called while reaching for his hand, forcing him to meet her eyes that now held a soft smile. "I'm not a damsel in distress. Still, I think you look sexy when you get territorial." 

This time he sighed, happy to see that she wasn't mad at him, and smiled cockily closing the space between them. He tilted his head moving in for a kiss. 

"If you had said something before I would have taken care of Grissom a long time ago..." 

His lips never made it to hers. She deliberately pushed him away and took a couple of steps backwards, a stern look in her face. 

"I knew it! I knew you never liked the idea of me and Grissom together!" Her finger pointed at him accusingly, but he didn't back down. 

That was one of the things she loved the most about him. He never backed down when he believed the fight was worth it. 

"Of course not!" Nick sighed just as annoyed as a couple of minutes ago. Whatever explaining he might do, it all seemed too obvious to him. "What is there to like?" 

She could only stare at him. He shook his head and sat on the couch. Perhaps she was too stubborn for her own sake. 

"Let's see. You finally start doing some living and all he does is whine!" He added. 

"Right. Because you obviously love the notion of me going out with men." 

Sara folded her arms across her chest, knowingly. He still looked back at her innocently while opening his mouth to retort. 

"Well, I've certainly done some encouraging!" 

"Because it was in your best interest! You were the one I was sleeping with!" 

"And *you* slowing down in your life is just not in his best interest!" She frowned, unsure of what he meant. 

"I don't know what you mean." She tried to sound cold, but it only came out trembling. She was uncertain of her wish to find out what he meant. That didn't keep him from elaborating. 

"If you slow down, sooner or later you will realize that you want something else, that being a CSI is not good enough," 

"Being a CSI is all I ever wanted and dreamed of." She stated, this time fully aware of the implications of his reasoning. 

"Exactly," He said standing up, softening. "You are already there. If you slow down, you might start dreaming again. And that's in your best interest. Not mine. Not Grissom's." 

"You think he doesn't give a damn about me." She whispered sadly. 

He just engulfed her in a gentle hug. 

"I think he doesn't care if you burn out working as long as you do it his way and he remains in control of the situation." He felt her stiffen for a second. 

"You should know by now that he could never control me." She said shifting quickly to meet his eyes that now brimmed with the fire of the untamed. "And neither can you." 

But she wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know, so he shrugged. 

"I don't mind." 

She sighed and wrapped herself deeper in his embrace, staying like that for a few seconds. She felt his grip tighten around her, and his lips on her forehead, and refused to open her eyes. 

But she did it anyway. 

"Could we," She trailed off in search for the words. "Can we just dance tonight?" 

He nodded softly and looked at her somehow confused, but she didn't notice it. She had already disentangled herself from his embrace and made her way to the CD player. 

The slow music started to fill the air, and he chuckled. 

Sara didn't even flinch; she just sunk back into his arms, completely drained. 

"Country? I thought you hated this stuff!" 

"I do not hate it!" She defended herself. "Besides," She shrugged "you like it." 

Nick raised and eyebrow and reached out to stop the music. He turned on the radio and smiled at the sound of her sigh of relief. 

"That's more like it." She attempted at teasing, unsuccessfully, but fortunately teasing wasn't needed. 

He turned his attention completely to the feeling of her swaying softly. 

Some things were just beyond words. 

- END OF CHAPTER SEVEN.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S._


	9. Chapter 8: Collateral Damage

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **:( This is me tired of saying none of this belongs to me. Only the plot. Then again, I've been destroying so many clichés I don't even think the plot is mine anymore. 

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay on the update. Real life made a number on me again. On with the show it is...   
_______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

**Chapter 8: Collateral Damage** _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Nick tugged hard at the covers, but that only got him a glare from her. 

"Leave me alone!" She warned "I am not getting up, much less going to work!" 

And with that, she turned around, closed her eyes and went back to pretending she was sleeping. 

He hated it when she was so stubborn. 

Sara had arrived at his house a few hours after leaving the crime lab the day before, very upset. 

"Well, this is *my* bed, and I'm kicking you out" He said, motioning for the covers again, but her pout stopped him. Softening considerably, he sat down while she turned towards him. 

"I can't go back to work. How am I going to face Catherine? Just in case she didn't hate me enough after Eddie's case I just had to go and almost ruin her entire case..." 

She sighed frustrated and with slumped shoulders leaned against his chest. He responded, kissing her forehead while putting a comforting arm around her. 

"Honey, you are only human, remember?" Much to his surprise, she sniffed softly. "Hey, I'm sure you have at least three messages from Cath on your answering machine, saying how sorry she is for yelling at you." 

"You think?" 

He smiled. "I'm sure. Now get dressed, I'll make some breakfast." 

She grimaced. "I don't know about that, I'm feeling funny." 

"Save that for the next time you don't want to get up." He said while heading out of the bedroom. 

************** 

"Hmm... what is that?" 

Nick diverted his attention from the kitchen to the woman that had just entered the room. 

"Bacon. I hope the smell doesn't bother you." 

He immediately kicked himself for not thinking about it first. It wasn't like he hadn't considered her aversion to meat, but seeing as she had never seemed disgusted by it before he hadn't given it much thought. 

Her response caught him by surprise. 

"Are you kidding me? That smells great! In fact, it smells so great I want some." 

His eyebrow was raised involuntarily. 

"OK. You do remember you don't eat meat, right?" 

Rolling her eyes, she took a seat around the already set table. It was funny how good at housekeeping Nick could be when he wanted. 

"I *do* remember. But today I have a craving for bacon, so shut up and do as you're told." 

She smiled as if to cover her sudden outburst and he grabbed her plate, thinking that perhaps a moody Sara was more than he could put up with on a daily basis. 

Payback came a few seconds later when, after putting the first piece of bacon in her mouth, she stormed out of the room. 

************** 

"You don't have to go in. I'll tell Grissom you weren't feeling OK." 

"And how exactly are you going to explain the reason I was at your place? After all the fuss you did today to get me out of bed of course. I am going in!" 

And with that she jumped out of his Denali. He did his best at following her closely, finally making her stop before she crossed the main entrance. 

"Sara, wait." His grip on her arm softened, but remained firm as he tried to understand her renewed anger at him. 

"Look, Nick, it's probably a momentary thing. Don't worry." Her attempt at resuming walking was prevented by his hand. 

That was not what he wanted to know. She sighed, frustrated at his action. 

"Sara..." 

"Is there a problem here?" 

Both of them turned to face their boss, who looked back expectantly. Nick released her quietly, almost ashamed at being caught arguing like that. 

On the other hand Sara apparently wasn't, and she took advantage of her coworker's lack of reaction to walk past both men. 

Grissom just stood there, giving him a long warning look. 

Perhaps they should start being more careful after all. 

************** 

"I'm telling you Cath, he won't be driving his Denali anytime soon." 

Nick marveled at his friend's amusement, the excitement evident in his voice. He went into the locker room to find a very amused Greg making their female coworker's efforts at not laughing an impossible task. 

But his thoughts were somewhere else. 

"Hey, has anybody seen Gris?" He asked. Might as well give his boss some excuse regarding his behavior earlier. Sara would get really angry if he suspected anything. 

Yet all his question accomplished was to make the older woman crack up. Her laughter was contagious, and he found himself smiling faintly. 

"He's either cleaning his Tahoe or checking on Sara" She explained. He frowned. 

"She puked all over it" Greg elaborated before erupting into laughter. 

Now he was worried. 

"What? Where is she now?" 

The expression in his face made Catherine sober up. 

"Warrick took her home." She answered, apparently worrying more about his reaction than their coworker's health "It's probably the flu..." 

Gathering his things in what probably was record time, he left the building in a hurry –- a sole destination in his mind. 

In other circumstances a million different possibilities would have crossed his mind, but not this time. This time, he couldn't think straight. 

Sara was pregnant. 

************** 

By the time he got to her place Nick barely remembered his own name, but he managed to remember where she used to place the extra key. 

The familiar surroundings somehow soothed him, and he let out a sigh. This was not the way things were supposed to be. He would get married and then maybe after a couple of years the kids would come. 

But apparently it was a little late for that. 

He slowly made his way to her bedroom. He could easily identify her sleeping form on the bed, under the covers. The scene was no longer unfamiliar; it hadn't been for a long time then. Neither was her scent. 

His eyes stung, and he rubbed them. It wasn't that Sara didn't have everything he wanted in a woman. She probably was the person he confided the most in. She probably was the woman he would pick to mother his child -- out of all the women he knew at the time. 

It was just that... he didn't think he could quite put the finger on it. 

She shifted in her sleep, and the sight looked overwhelmingly inviting to his weary muscles. He hadn't realized he was so tired, and he actually doubted he had a reason to feel that way other than nervous tension. But he gave in anyway, reclaiming his place by her side carefully enough not to wake her up. 

Somehow his hand made its way to her belly and he found himself surprised at his own reaction to a contact that was anything but new, yet something felt extremely different to him. 

They had created a life and that idea would marvel him forever, he concluded. 

Lost as he was in his own amazement, he didn't notice she was awake until she felt her hand caress his, calling for his attention. He raised his gaze to meet a sleepy smile. 

"Hey" was all he could utter. 

"Hey." She replied, smiling even more warmly. "Nick, I --" 

"Look, Sara" He started, trying to muster up some courage to say what he felt in his heart. Not much came out, though, only the necessary to spare her the explanation. "I know." 

The woman beside him raised an eyebrow. She looked from his eyes to their hands entwined and frowned slightly, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. 

"I..." He looked away, bracing himself for whatever she felt the need to express. "I am not pregnant, Nick." 

The temperature of the room dropped a couple of degrees, and he felt frozen and dumbfounded. Her words were ringing in his ears, but they made no sense. 

"...uh?" 

And he had considered himself as gifted with words and people... 

"Are you okay?" She asked, a little concerned about his current speechless status. He looked at her, letting the words sink in. Sara was not pregnant with his child. 

"How?" He reacted. "I mean, morning sickness, cravings, tiredness – we were always careful, but not that careful. Besides, there is nothing 100% effective, right?" 

"I have the flu. And the rest you can blame it on PMS. I'm sorry Nick..." 

The oddness of the situation struck them both. There she was, apologizing to him for not being pregnant while in a purely physical relationship. Nick tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile, and soon enough they were laughing animatedly. 

"Drama Queen" She accused. He just smiled. 

"I just didn't expect you *not* to be pregnant" 

His lame attempt at trying to hide the hint of disappointment still present in his eyes had been successful only due to the lack of illumination of the room. But dim lights did nothing to her ears. 

Sara smiled, and softly placed a kiss on his cheek. 

"You know, if I wanted to have a child right now you would be my first choice. You're going to make a great dad." 

Instinctively tightening his grip on her, he shifted slightly allowing her to place her head on his chest. He didn't dwell on any subtext or hidden meaning he knew he'd be able to find in her words if he looked hard enough. 

He just kissed her hair. 

"My parents were good. If I become half the father my dad is I'll do great." 

Contrary to popular belief, Nicholas Stokes was very self-conscious when it came to the information about himself he wanted to give away. And rare cases like this, when he appeared so careless and stripped of any defense mechanism, came only from the uncontrollable need to share his feelings. 

"Really?" 

He nodded. "Enzo Ferrari, as in the cars, said once that every time a car racer had a son, he became a second slower. And it was the same with my dad. You would think that he'd be too busy to play with his children, but he made time. He made time for the seven of us. We always came first. That's what I want for my family..." 

She swallowed hard at the sound of his voice, thick with emotion, wondering what was wrong with her. Why couldn't she just love a man like him? Wasn't he everything she wanted in a man? 

Why hadn't she seen the wonders of Nick Stokes in the first place, instead of rekindling her unrequited feelings for Grissom? 

Oh, but she had. She had been attracted to him. She liked the way she felt around him. They flirted, openly. But she had had her share of jocks and wild parties throughout college. 

And she enjoyed the thought that she had actually grown up since then. 

Silence told her it was her time to open up, in a routine they had perfected what seemed a long time ago. 

"My parents were alright. But I think I spent so much time angry at them that I almost forgot what I felt for them..." 

- END OF CHAPTER EIGHT   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S._


	10. Chapter 9: Trading Places

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **Not Mine. Duh. 

**Author's Note:** I suppose warnings are useless if after all this time you are still reading.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

**Chapter 9: Trading Places** ______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Greg was beaming. 

Watching him go from one end of his apartment to the other, laughing, cracking jokes, and dancing – being his usual self – Warrick and Sara concluded he was having the time of his life. 

Indeed, he did look like a kid who had just gotten exactly what he wanted on Christmas morning. 

Quite right too. It wasn't every day he could throw a party at his apartment and have all the people working on the Las Vegas crime lab attending. 

OK, maybe not everybody. Just everyone who wasn't working that night. 

Much to his amusement the whole night shift had showed up, minus Catherine who was pulling a double. Other than that, even Grissom seemed to be enjoying himself. 

It was pretty much like a late Christmas miracle. 

"Well, I can recognize a girl who's enjoying herself when I see one." Warrick commented lightheartedly. Sara smiled. 

"Oh really? How can you tell?" 

"Um, let me see. First, there's that big smile on your face, a bottle of beer in your hand..." 

"Empty, I might add." She said while shaking the object. 

"...Oh, and the fact that you've practically danced with every man in the room." 

She smiled and shrugged, an odd twinkle in her eyes. 

"I'm just trying to catch up with you guys. Speaking of which, where is the one and true soul of the party?" 

Her friend let out a chuckle. 

"In the kitchen, spending some quality time with his beer I suppose. In case you haven't noticed, he hasn't been much of a party animal lately." 

His tone was casual, and she wondered if he knew how much curiosity his words had stirred in her. 

She hadn't noticed. 

"Well," She started. "let me see what I can do about that. After all, I do need another beer." 

The young man smiled, but his attention was no longer hers. She followed his gaze to a woman on the other side of the room, and decided that was her cue. 

Following her partner's directions, she found him – just as expected – sitting on the counter, nursing a bottle of beer uncharacteristically solemnly. Possibly drunk. 

He acknowledged her presence with a smile, but remained quiet, letting her be the one to make the first move. She pondered on it, and somehow took comfort on the fact that it was unlikely that he had seen her dancing with Grissom. 

Not that she would have noticed it, been a little preoccupied with the matter at hand at that moment. 

"Hey, I was looking for you." 

"Yeah?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

"Yeah. I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me." Sara put on her best smile, considering it necessary after seeing his posture. 

"No." Another sip. 

Maybe he had seen them after all. Which wouldn't explain while he had been so out of character all night, but would be a start. 

"Oh, c'mon!" 

He grimaced, before replying. "Forget it. I really don't feel like helping you to make Grissom jealous." 

Sara stared, astonished. 

"I'm not asking you to dance to make Grissom jealous." 

"Then I wouldn't want to risk damaging your relationship with him." Sip. 

There was nothing drunk about that. She narrowed her eyes and struggled to meet his, if only to prove her point. 

A slow song started to play. Perfect. 

"I am not asking Grissom to dance now. I am asking you." 

Her hand was held out for him to take, and he did, placing his bottle in the same spot he had been sitting on. On the inside remained most of its content. 

She led him through the small crowd back to the living room and tried to place her arms around his neck, only to encounter resistance. 

Nick Stokes was willingly keeping her at arms length. Sara had to stifle a laugh. 

"What are you, twelve?" 

She closed the gap between them and started swaying to the music. He mumbled something and vowed himself to relax, but failed inevitably: he could very well feel Grissom's eyes burning a hole in the back of his neck. 

Oh yes. He had spotted him talking animatedly to one of the techs while Sara dragged him mercilessly right in front of their boss – not on purpose, he wanted to believe. 

He was certain the talk had already ended, and his whole attention was diverted to them. Soon Sara would notice and start pretending like it didn't affect her, but things would become uncomfortable between them. 

Not Grissom and himself. And certainly not Grissom and Sara. 

But Nick and Sara. 

"Ouch!" 

His foot had somehow found its way to Sara's. 

"Sorry." His apology came out a little too heartfelt, making her disentangle herself from his embrace to meet his eyes. 

They stood like that, not moving, for a few seconds before she opened her mouth to speak. 

"It's OK." 

Somehow, he knew she wasn't talking about stepping on her. And he believed her. 

He smiled, and drew her nearer, closing his eyes. As they swayed, he knew her eyes were closed as well. And a smile spread across her face. 

It occurred to her that Catherine not being there was a good thing after all. She had always been great at reading people. 

And they were forgetting that they were not alone in the room. 

Her smile remained impassive as she sighed. 

"I love it when we dance." 

- END OF CHAPTER NINE   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S._


	11. Chapter 10: Champagne High

**WASTING TIME**

**Disclaimer: **See the prologue. 

**Author's Note:** OK, I'm sorry. I know I promised, but I couldn't help myself. Consider me officially a songficaholic. And as a good addict, I must tell you what happened to ease my guilt: I re-discovered the saddest song of all. **"Champagne High" by Sister Hazel**. It's such a great, tear-jerking song! I had to get it involved somehow.   
Now, if I recall well, Kellie had asked a question through her review. Well, here's my answer: I believe Sara's exact words were "If I ever so much as think about sleeping with any of my dates, you will be the first to know (...) Because Nick, whenever that happens, *this* is over." Translation: *this* will be over if and when Sara so much as thinks about sleeping with any of her dates.   
Spoilers ahead, be warned (this might be some sort of post-ep for "Butterflied") although this is getting kinda AU (I haven't watched the episode). 

Anywho. On with the show.   
_______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

**Chapter 10: Champagne High** _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Sara came home to anything but an empty apartment. 

For a moment, she had forgotten she had told Nick long ago where was her spare key hidden, just in case. Most definitely, she had forgotten he was coming over at all. 

He smiled to her and waved hello nonetheless, before turning his attention back to the TV. 

"I got the movie, it's all set up." He informed her as she made her way to her bedroom. She emerged a couple of minutes later, wearing a pair of sweats too big for her. 

She distractedly took her place beside him in the couch, earning a funny look from her friend. 

"Sara?" 

"Yes?" 

"Aren't you forgetting something? As in the ice cream you were supposed to buy?" 

She groaned. 

"Damn! I knew I was forgetting something!" She got up as fast as she could, heading for the fridge. "Sorry, I'll see if there's any left." 

He frowned slightly, that wasn't like her. Maybe she was just too tired. He had called to confirm the time of his arrival, and had heard about Debbie Marlin. 

After all, he figured, having a victim that resembled her so much had taken its toll on the whole team, even if some of them showed it more than others. 

"Hey, don't worry about it. You can make up for it on Friday night. We're still on, right?" 

"Um, about that..." He turned at the tone of her voice to find her standing uneasily beside him. "I sort of have other plans." 

He raised an eyebrow, and Sara considered - not for the first time that night - not telling him. It was better to get it all out right there and then though, she figured. 

"I have a date with Grissom." 

******** _Plus, if my heart gets broken again you'll be here to pick up the pieces, right?_ Her words had an undesired effect on him, and he wondered if she was aware of that. 

He honestly hadn't planned on spending his Friday night like that. He had vowed himself to stop thinking about it. She was just a friend, and she had wanted this to happen for so long that he felt compelled to be happy for her. 

Of course, she was a friend he happened to be sleeping with. 

Sara had told him how Grissom had blurted out his feelings during the interrogation, and how she had accidentally heard it. She had told him how Grissom had discovered she was there and they had had a long conversation, after which he had thrown most of his so-called credo out of the window and asked her out. 

It had taken every bit of willpower in him not to comment on that. 

One way or the other, he had figured he would be spending his night off at work, since their boss would need someone to cover for him. But Grissom had gotten someone from the day shift to do it, Nick had overheard his conversation with Catherine. 

He had also happened to overhear the name of the place he was going to take her to. And there he was, sitting in his Denali like some sickly jealous forgotten ex-boyfriend, outside the restaurant. 

The semi-rational part of his mind, that by some miracle wasn't telling him how psychotic that actually was, had figured out that like most of his coworkers, he just wanted to see if Grissom would go through with it. 

They were running late already. 

Perhaps Grissom had chickened out and they weren't going to make it. He would wait for five minutes and return home to find her sitting on the floor, her back leaning on the door. Heartbroken. 

Perhaps they were never going to make it to the restaurant for a completely different reason. He dismissed the thought quickly, not allowing himself to dwell too much on it. 

Sara wasn't like that, right? 

Well, she was having a casual relationship with him. But that didn't mean anything, right? _Plus, if my heart gets broken again you'll be here to pick up the pieces..._ Damned right he would. 

He turned the radio on, but turned it back off just as quickly. He already knew how the song went. 

_I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you_   
_And I never thought it would hurt just to hear_   
_"I do" and "I do"_   
_And I do a number on myself_   
_And all that I thought to be_   
_And you'll be the one_   
_That just left me undone_   
_By my own hesitation_

The restaurant was a little too formal for a first date, he decided. Nothing like her. 

But that was the moment they chose to make their appearance. And he would have let out a sigh of relief if his breath hadn't caught at her sight. 

Sara Sidle was breathtaking. But it wasn't just her very becoming dress, or her hair, or the make up. 

It was the bright smile gracing her face, and the sparkle in her eyes. 

Somehow, Nick expected Grissom to traditionally offer her his arm, which he didn't. 

Grissom just held his hand out and she took it, with an expression that had nothing playful to it. It expressed every feeling she had been forced to hide for the past years. 

Nick thought he had never witnessed anything as meaningful. 

He got home in record time, angry at the world, at them, maybe God; but most of all, angry at himself. 

If he wanted something other than whatever he already had with her, why couldn't he just admit it? 

_And for the million hours that we were_   
_well I'll smile and remember it all_   
_then I'll turn and go_   
_While your story's completed mine is a long way from done._

His house seemed too quiet, but that was OK. He headed straight for the fridge, barely bothering to lock the door behind him. He had saved a bottle of champagne someone had given him for his birthday a few months ago, thinking that he and Sara would make good use of it someday. 

He smirked, finding the cool feeling of the bottle against his skin extremely soothing. He just wasn't ready for the serious commitment that she probably had in mind when she agreed to go out on a date with Grissom. 

And on top of that, there was the fact that Nick was definitely not the man she was in love with. 

Still, he had good memories. He could smile, and remember, and gloat about the fact that somehow she had been his, if only for a little while. Somewhere along the way she had become his best friend and he had become hers. 

Besides, they shared a secret he doubted she would be telling anytime soon. 

He could hold on to that until there was no further need for comfort. It wouldn't take long, he assumed, since he was only feeling slightly infatuated by the sight of her in that dark red dress. 

_Well I'm on a champagne high_   
_Where will I be when I stop wondering why?_   
_On a champagne high, high_

Yet there were still a thousand questions he could ask himself, questions that wouldn't allow him to get any sleep anytime soon. 

Then again, that was what the champagne was for. 

_Spring turned to summer_   
_but then winter turned mean_   
_The distance seemed right_   
_At the time it was best to leave_   
_And to leave behind_   
_What I once thought was fine and so real to me_   
_And while I'm still gone_   
_on the quest for my song_   
_I'm at your celebration_

He wondered when had been the time something that had started as a simple arrangement between two adults with needs had become something so complicated. 

The 'no strings attached' part had probably been the tricky one, he suspected. It had seemed not only right but necessary to avoid conflict in the beginning, and now it had screwed over the whole thing. 

Because feelings always found a way to meddle. And as if on cue, the fourth glass of champagne put images to his fears. 

In a couple of months they would announce their engagement. Why wait? They were soulmates after all. Everybody would celebrate their decision; they were so right for each other. 

The marriage would take place as soon as they could organize everything with certain readiness, but not much since they both were a little freaky regarding control. 

If lucky enough, Grissom would think about asking Brass to be the best man. But given his involvement with the bride, their once close relationship, Sara would convince Gil that Nick was the best for the job. 

_And for the million hours that we were_   
_well I'll smile and remember it all_   
_then I'll turn and go_   
_While your story's completed mine is a long way from done._

They would come to visit him one afternoon. Sara and himself, he figured, would have drifted apart after a little while, considering how serious her relationship with their boss was. 

He would ask them if they wanted something to drink and he would be surprised to see her decline a beer, wondering where had he been while she changed so much. 

They would start making small conversation, but soon Grissom would leave because of an emergency at the crime lab. He would thank his lucky stars - the ones he would be distanced with - because the sight of the two together would still make him uncomfortable. 

She would wonder about his life, and he would say that there's nothing new. She would ask oh-so-thoroughly about his last girlfriend, and he would say they broke up long ago. 

He would feel, not for the first time in her presence, a little jaded. 

She would try to trick him into accepting by casually reminding him of the times he cried in her arms, the times when he told her everything there was to know about him. 

He would think then, that he hasn't changed at all. That his needs haven't changed. He would think that he still needs her. 

But it wouldn't matter, because he would have vowed to reject her offer not matter what. 

Of course, he wouldn't have counted on seeing her smile to him they way she used to. 

_Well I'm on a champagne high_   
_Where will I be when I stop wondering why?_   
_On a champagne high_   
_I'd toast to the future but that'd be a lie_   
_On a champagne high, high_

Somehow he would find himself at their wedding reception, trying to go through the lame speech he would have managed to put together at the last minute. 

A couple of bad jokes would save him from public humiliation, but not from the knowing eye of Catherine. 

After all, he had never been able to keep anything from the woman. Excepting for their relationship. But it was only a matter of time. 

He would try to come up with a decent toast, but he would end up toasting for them separately. 

Wondering if Sara knew what kind of hell she had just put him through. 

_Your wagons been hitched to a star_   
_Well now he'll be your thing that's new_   
_Yeah what little I have you can borrow_   
_'Cause I'm old and I'm blue_

But it would be OK, because after that, it would be over. That would be his final sacrifice for her. Then he would pick up what would be left of him to try and start over with his life. 

He would wonder if he has any life left, feeling permanently jaded now. 

_And for the million hours that we were_   
_well I'll smile and remember it all_   
_then I'll turn and go_   
_While your story's completed mine is a long way from done._

Nick shuddered at the thought, promising he wouldn't let that happen to him. 

After all, he still didn't know what would happen with their relationship from that moment on. She hadn't said anything about how it would affect them. As far as they were concerned, everything was still in due place. 

Besides, he could not possibly be seriously interested in Sara Sidle, the way Grissom probably was. 

From her place in his memories, her smile begged to differ. 

_Well I'm on a champagne high (so high)_   
_Where will I be when I stop wondering why?_   
_On a champagne high (so high)_   
_Toast to the future but that'd be a lie_   
_On a champagne high_   
_Where will I be when I stop wondering why?_   
_On a champagne high... high..._   
_(So high so high you left me undone)_   
_(so high, so high you left me undone)_

His last semi coherent thought was dedicated to the empty bottle on the table, blaming it for the inner turmoil he had been feeling. 

She would be there tomorrow soothing his fears. She would prove him how defective his reasoning was. 

Minutes later he crawled his way to the couch, where he fell unconscious. 

It was only 9 p.m. 

******** 

The knock on the door could very well have been the pounding sound of his heartbeat, which had been contributing to his headache for a couple of hours. 

He had a vague recollection of throwing up in the bathroom a couple of hours after falling asleep for the first time, but the rest was blurry, including how he had gotten to his bed. 

The taste was still in his mouth though. 

Whoever was behind the door knocked again, louder. He struggled to focus his sight on the clock. It read 3 a.m. 

The knocks became more urgent, and he finally found the will to get up. He didn't even bother in asking who it was. 

But he didn't expect to find Sara standing right there either. 

Suddenly he felt more awake, not to mention sober. He rubbed his eyes. 

"You look like hell." She commented as she walked past him. She was still wearing her dress but held the shoes in her right hand, he noticed. His mind was still too clouded to decide whether that was a good or a bad thing. 

"Thanks. I take it your date went well." He countered back while heading for the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

She didn't seem to hear the remark. She did seem to notice the empty bottle that somehow had been knocked down to the carpeted floor. 

"What are we celebrating?" She asked, picking it up. 

"Me getting rid of you, apparently." He said, coming back into the room. His attempt at sounding semi serious failed miserably. He wondered if he always sounded that lighthearted when he was hung over. 

He never got a chance to ask his question though. Sara seemed to be lost in a world of her own. 

Visiting hours: nine to five. 

"Don't tell me this knocked you out!" She chuckled. He let his hand wander through his ruffled hair and shrugged. 

"I hadn't had anything to eat." Nick explained. 

"Oh." 

His mind tried unsuccessfully to process the fact that Sara was staring at him, biting at her lower lip. 

And a few seconds later it became even more so difficult to process the fact that she was kissing him; urgently at first, then sweetly. 

Seeing how his brain was momentarily out of order, his body took over and responded instinctively at her. But just as she had initiated it, she was also the one to break it. 

With her hands firmly etched to the sides of his face so that his eyes wouldn't escape the grip of hers, she sighed uncharacteristically. 

"I can't do this anymore Nick" 

- END OF CHAPTER TEN.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S. Only a few more chapters to go._   
**HUGE thanks to Michelle for putting up with me.**


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